Sweet Reunion

by Melanie Shawn

  When the game ended, Justin made his way toward the field. Since he was here, and making the effort to connect to his former athletic roots, it only made sense that he should stop by and say hello to his old coach.

  As he was approaching the field and the players were finding their things, he noticed that the kid with the “Barnes” jersey on was gazing at him with a peculiar expression. Before he even had time to contemplate the oddness of that fact, the boy's expression changed. Like a switch was flipped, turning on an internal spotlight, his face suddenly brightened.

  The kid opened his mouth, and to Justin's surprise, yelled at the top of his lungs, “My brother's here! Coach! My brother's here! My brother came to see me!”

  Justin, puzzled by the fact that the kid seemed to be looking in his direction when he said this, turned around and gazed over his shoulder to get a look at who the actual object of this boy's enthusiasm was. There was no one there, the crowd had largely dissipated.

  When Justin turned back to face forward again, he saw that the Barnes boy was moving toward him, and he had both of his small hands wrapped around one of the coach's large ones, dragging him along as well. He was still chattering excitedly about his brother. Damn, Justin thought. That brother must be quite a guy.

  He paused in his progress toward the field, leaning against a tree. He figured he would just wait for few minutes while the coach met his player's brother and then say a quick hello after that.

  To his surprise, however, the boy pulled Coach over to stand right in front of Justin and then stopped there. That's awkward, Justin thought, trying to make the appropriate amount of eye-contact for the situation so as not to seem strange. Then again what IS the appropriate amount of eye contact for when your childhood and teen football coach and a child who is a complete stranger to you stand one foot away from you to have a private conversation? Too much seems intrusive. Too little seems artificial. Justin realized that there might not be an appropriate social etiquette for this particular situation.

  “See?” the kid enthused to Coach, vibrating with excitement, “I told you my brother was here! This is my brother!”

  Coach laughed and clapped Justin on the shoulder. Looking down at the thrilled kid, Coach said, “Noah, I know your brother very well! I used to be his coach, as well. Isn't that right, Justin?”

  Justin's eyes narrowed in confusion as he looked at his former coach. He felt like he sometimes felt in dreams, as if the world and all the people in it were operating by some set of mysterious rules that everyone was privy to except for him. Hell, he often felt that way when he was awake as well, just never to this degree. “Who's brother?” he asked Coach.

  Coach hesitated a moment, looking unsure, as if he couldn't quite figure out if Justin were joking or not. But after that initial pause, he pushed ahead, if not quite as confidently. “Your brother, Justin. Noah?” He looked down at the child, who at that moment confused Justin even further by throwing his arms around Justin's waist.

  Justin's arms flew into the air as if in surrender. “What the...?” he began, but just then the kid was distracted yet again by a car that was pulling up in the parking lot, and the man that was climbing out of it.

  “Dad!” he yelled, running in that direction, “My brother! My brother came to see me! Why didn't you tell me my brother was coming to see me?”

  And with that, Justin turned and saw the little boy – Noah, Coach had said his name was – launch himself into the arms of someone that Justin had not seen in over 15 years, and had never planned to see again in this lifetime. Rick Barnes. His father.

  Chapter 17

  It was an odd experience. Justin would have expected to feel anger, even rage, growing inside him as he watched the approach of his father across the grass toward him, but the surreal situation currently unfolding around him seemed to have completely numbed him. Of course, in the years since he had seen his father, he had imagined various scenarios for what might happen if their paths crossed at some point. Suffice it to say, the current one had never been on the table.

  He turned to Coach, “What the hell is going on here? My dad had another kid? Who thought that would be a good idea?”

  Coach looked supremely uncomfortable to be put in the middle of the situation, but to his credit, he managed to maintain a sense of calm professionalism that was pretty much the only thing keeping Justin anchored to reality in that moment. He hurriedly recited the relevant facts, in order to complete them before Rick and Noah made it over to them. This was, fortunately, helped by the fact that it looked like Rick was approaching Justin with every bit as much trepidation as he himself was feeling.

  “Not long after you left, your dad met and married Noah's mom. She wasn't like his usual women, she was actually a nice lady, upstanding even. She died giving birth to Noah, and your dad, knowing he was the only person there to take care of Noah, really turned his life around. I can't believe no one here in Hope Falls gave you a heads up about this.”

  Justin shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. “I haven't stayed in touch with anyone here. I'm not surprised by that, actually. I'm more surprised that he could string two sober days together.”

  “Eight and a half years, actually.” Rick Barnes replied as he and Noah walked up. Justin had thought they were far enough away that they couldn't hear him.

  Embarrassed, he replied, “That's, um...wow. Good for you.” He felt like an idiot. He might have absolutely no respect in him for his old man, but the little boy didn't deserve to hear people talk badly about his father. Justin had never spent much time around children, and realized he would need to watch what he said around the boy. He looked next to him, hoping to get some assistance with this awkward conversation from Coach, but he saw that the man had unobtrusively withdrawn when Rick had arrived. Great.

  Rick looked equally uncomfortable and unsure of what to say next. “So. I suppose you're in town for Parker Jacobs' funeral,” he stated matter of factly.

  “I'm not surprised I didn't see you there,” Justin shot back, completely forgetting his admonition to himself of only moments before not to let his rancor show through in front of Noah. He took a deep breath. “It was a nice service.”

  Rick nodded, “I heard.”

  They both stood there, fidgeting in the awkward silence, until finally Rick said, “Well, it was good seeing you,” and turned to walk away, Noah's hand in his.

  Noah pulled his hand out of Rick's grasp, disbelieving. “Wait. We can't leave yet! We have to talk to my brother!” he turned to Justin, “Will you come over?”

  His momentum built as he warmed to that idea, “Yeah! Come over! And you could see my room!”

  Justin and Rick were both shaking their respective heads at that idea before Noah had even gotten the entire sentence out, but Rick was the first to speak, “I'm sure your brother has a lot to do,” he said carefully, watching Justin's face.

  Justin was torn. He certainly didn't want to go over to Rick Barnes house – hell, he didn't even know where Rick lived nowadays. The same house he had grown up in? That would be even worse. To see that place, to have to process all those old memories. And to have to do that in front of the boy, who would surely be excitedly watching Justin's reaction to everything he showed off to him. Justin knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was not up to the task, certainly not on such short notice. Were that encounter ever to happen, he would need to have time to prepare himself first, to steel his nerves.

  By the same token, though, he found himself looking into the little kid's eager, expectant face and not wanting to disappoint him. It was strange. Ten minutes ago, the kid had been merely one of a crowd of anonymous children to him, with no emotional significance whatsoever. Now, merely by virtue of the fact that Justin had discovered that this small stranger was his brother, he found himself loathe to cause the kid any disappointment or pain. Emotional bonds were mysterious animals, and Justin was finding out that you could run from them, but you could never outrun them. He didn't want to
add this small boy to the list of people who had lingering pain in their hearts where Justin had wounded them.

  “I tell you what,” he conceded to Noah, “I don't have time to get together tonight. But how about you and me go have some fun on Saturday. Just the two of us,” he concluded, looking pointedly at Rick.

  Noah looked hopefully up at Rick, and Rick smiled down at him. Justin was surprised to see on Rick's face the same thing that Justin had just been feeling – attachment, and a desire not to disappoint the child. Justin could never remember once in his own childhood seeing that look on Rick's face, aimed toward him.

  “I think that would be really great,” Rick said to Noah. Noah pumped his fist in the air and whooped with delight. He rushed over to Justin and threw his arms around his waist again. As he awkwardly patted the kid's back, Justin wondered exactly what he had gotten himself into. How would he manage to pass the day with this kid? What would they do? What would they talk about? What did kids eat? He chided himself at that last worry. He's not an exotic snake, he thought, he's a kid. Then mentally appended, my kid brother, in fact. He shook his head. His world felt turned on its axis.

  “We'll see you around ten on Saturday, then?” Rick asked him.

  Justin nodded, “Same place?”

  Rick nodded, “Yep. Same place. You remember the way home?”

  Justin barked out a rueful laugh. “I remember the way to your house. Let's just leave it at that,” he turned his attention to Noah, and softened immediately, “OK, big guy, I'll see you on Saturday. We'll have some fun, OK?”

  Justin stood on the field and watched the two of them make their way back to the car, a contrast in attitudes – his father somberly trudging, and his brother joyfully frolicking. His father and his brother, he thought to himself wonderingly. Will wonders never cease.

  --- ~ ---

  As Justin made his way back to Amanda's property, to the bunkhouse where he was staying, he found himself glad that he didn't have a car. The walk, combined with the fresh mountain air, was doing a good job of serving to clear his head. He looked forward to a long evening alone in the bunkhouse, where his plans were to do nothing more complicated than lay on his cot and stare at the ceiling. No reading, no music – nothing to distract from the utter silence as he strove to completely zone out and erase all thoughts from his mind. Ah, yes. A completely blank mind. What a relief that would be, in the midst of all the chaos of the past couple of days.

  If he could actually achieve it, of course. That was the big “if.” No matter. He planned to spend the entire evening trying.

  Those plans, though, were destined to be thwarted, he realized. As he walked up to the bunkhouse, he saw the unlikely pair of Lauren and Henry waiting for him.

  It was odd to have Henry, Amanda's godfather and one of Justin's biggest fans in Hope Falls, standing in front of him with Lauren, Amanda's close friend and one of Justin's biggest detractors in Hope Falls. He wondered what fresh calamity would bring such unlikely allies to Justin's doorstep.

  Without saying anything, Justin stepped past them to the door, unlocked it, and gestured them into his small domain ahead of him.

  He followed them into the room, pulled out the lone chair in the room from under makeshift card table desk it sat pushed into, turned it to face the cot, and sat down in it. He moved his arm to indicate that they should sit on the cot, the only other available seating there.

  Henry plopped right down without hesitation. Lauren lowered herself delicately, perching on the very edge of the cot, and looking supremely uncomfortable, both physically and otherwise.

  Justin sighed, “Well, I suppose this isn't just a housewarming call.”

  Lauren and Henry looked at each other, tense. Lauren said reluctantly, “Justin, here's the thing. We, um....need your help.” She rushed through the latter half of the sentence, and couldn't meet his eye as she spoke.

  Justin looked puzzled. “Need my help? For what?”

  Lauren gazed around the unadorned walls of the room, which itself contained only the cot and card table. “Decorating advice,” she intoned sardonically.

  Justin smirked. He'd always liked Amanda's friends, Lauren included. He couldn't blame her for her less-than-stellar view of his character. He didn't have such a hot view of it himself.

  “Look, Lauren,” he said, conciliatory. “I understand you don't like me. I get it. But I do know, even if you don't believe it, that we both have Amanda's best interests at heart. With your views about me, I know you wouldn't darken my doorway if it weren't for Amanda's benefit. So why don't you tell me how I can help? Of course, I'll do anything I can.”

  Lauren nodded and visibly relaxed. “You're right,” she said, “This isn't about you, or me. It's about Amanda.”

  Henry patted Lauren's shoulder encouragingly. “Tell the boy what you came to say, Lauren.”

  “Well, to start with, I want to clarify how I feel about you, Justin. I don't trust you, that's true, but I know you care for Amanda. I don't for one second believe that you have anything but the best of intentions where she is concerned. Now, whether you have the strength to follow through on those intentions, that's where my belief in you falls apart. But I do know that you want only the best for Amanda.”

  Justin nodded. She had touched on the exact same fears about himself that he struggled with every moment of the day. She wasn't telling him anything he didn't already know.

  “Lauren, thanks for being honest,” he said, “I admire how you want to protect Amanda. And I do appreciate that you can see how much I care for her, and only want the best for her. That's the God's honest truth.”

  Henry chuckled, “See? We're not so far apart after all. We all want what's best for Manda.”

  “Agreed,” Lauren said, “Now, as to what we require your assistance for, Justin. I need your permission to, along with Henry, do a thorough going over of the Mountain Ridge Outdoor Adventures books – all of the financial records, every scrap of paper and line in a spreadsheet contained in that office or on those computers. I think something's not right.”

  “What?” Justin asked, “What could be wrong? I could never imagine Parker leaving Amanda in some kind of mess.”

  Henry interjected, “No, no, Parker would never have intentionally done that, it's true. But every man has a shortcoming or two, especially when it comes to business. Parker's was that, one, he was too much of a big-picture thinker. He had the vision for the place. He hired people to take care of the details. Which brings me to his second shortcoming – he was too trusting of people in general, but especially of the people who worked for him. He let them have free reign to do their jobs, and never got too specific with managing them. If one of them wanted to pull the wool over Parker's eyes, he or she wouldn't have had to try too hard to be able to do it.”

  “Then there's this little thing,” Lauren finished up, her eyes hardening, “I do not like or trust Geoffrey.”

  Justin's eyebrows raised, “Well, I'm not going to argue with you there.”

  Lauren grimaced, “I have no confidence whatsoever that he has Amanda's best interests at heart, in fact, I suspect the exact opposite. I think he has nobody's interests at heart, ever, aside from his own, and that he would not hesitate to trample over Amanda or anyone else who got in the way of him getting what he wanted. Moreover, I am beginning to wonder if his entire relationship with Amanda has not been an elaborate ruse to get into a position to get his hands on either Mountain Ridge Outdoor Adventures or the land it sits on – he's just too, too interested in the property, the will, and in pressuring Amanda to sell as soon as possible. He's up to something.”

  “Agreed,” Henry put in, “I don't trust that weasel any further than I could toss him, and I don't mean in my younger days, either.”

  Justin still looked puzzled, “I understand all of that,” he said, “but what I don't understand is why you are coming to me. It's Amanda's business. I've got nothing to do with it.”

  Henry looked at him strangely, �
��Well, son, that's not strictly true,” he said slowly, “you own 20% of the resort, remember.”

  Justin shook his head back and forth, as if to clear out the cobwebs, “God, yes, I do know that. It just feels so strange. Emotionally, it still feels like I work for Parker. It doesn't feel real.”

  Henry nodded, “I know, son. You're not used to owning something, to having roots. But it's time to get used to the idea. Manda needs you.”

  “Right,” Lauren added, “we don't want to go to her with this until we have something definitive. After all, her father has just died, you showed back up...her world's been turned upside down quite enough without having to deal with this. Plus, it might turn out to be nothing.”

  Justin nodded his assent, “Yeah, of course, of course. You have my permission, anything you need. Look at any of it, look at all of it. I don't want anyone taking advantage of Amanda.”

  Henry smiled widely, “And if we can get rid of Geoffrey while we're at it, son, well that will just be an added bonus.”

  Justin smiled back at the old man. His orneriness was so amusing, you couldn't help but smile at the mischievous glint in his eye. “Come on, now, Henry,” he laughed, “don't stir the pot.”

  Henry laughed right back, “Son, don't you know? If you don't stir the pot, the soup'll burn. You gotta stir the pot, or all you end up with is a big ol' mess.”

  --- ~ ---

  Amanda walked down the well-worn path to the bunkhouse, her intention clear in her mind. Tomorrow was the day she had planned to scatter her father's ashes, and it felt very natural for Justin to be a part of that. But, still, she felt some trepidation about asking him. Scattering her father's ashes was such a raw, personal, and painful thing to do – she felt very vulnerable asking Justin to participate. God, what if he said no?

  She shook her head. Don't be an idiot, she told herself. It's not like you're asking him to the junior high school dance! Just be clear and direct. Still, in spite of herself, her palms were sweating.